Confessions
by Ezra Fitz
Summary: Carmelita doesn't think about it much. Or tries not to.


**Confessions**

* * *

Carmelita doesn't think about it much. Or tries not to. It was for the good of Interpol, she chants to herself. Successfully _un_convincing. It was for the sake of offering a new asset to the police, for the betterment of law enforcement; after all, as the saying goes: if you can't beat them, join them. Not exactly in context, since Sly didn't know, was blissfully unaware. Accepted the lie about being her partner without mistrust; didn't have much of a _choice_ at that time, or perhaps it was just a survival's instinct, ;don't engage in idle chitchat, just run_'_; they _had_ been under a crumbling roof. But after the ordeal was behind them, he never doubted the falsehood and stuck by her loyally (the blow to his head must have been quite severe) and nobody illuminated him on the truth, at her explicit request.

_Choices. _Truths... that she's kept from him.

No, her motives were hardly innocent. She knows it was out of pure selfishness. She lied, and lied without the batter of an eyelid or a split-second murmur of hesitance. She doesn't want to justify _why_, perhaps she doesn't quite know why herself. He's safe, no longer threatened by rivals set on snatching his family heirlooms, has proved himself an excellent addition to Interpol; his stealth and speed are unparalleled; even she cannot catch up, _never has been able to. _

He's happy here with her, or she'd like to believe as much.

She lied, and she doesn't regret it. Refrains from remembering the aftermath of the fight with Dr M, but the treacherous memories resurface anyway when Sly's around. Yet Carmelita has come to discover that her partner has quite a charismatic, gentlemanly disposition when he isn't playing thief. She doesn't complain; she's learned to expect his smothering kisses and has grown accustomed to his embrace; welcomes it, even.

But sometimes, during late-night assignments and hasty pursuits behind feisty bandits, she swears she catches glimpse of a tail with very familiar rings, sneaking stealthily into the shadows, or scattering high above on the rooftops. Or other times, the light shining off of what _appears_ to be a cane in the distance, she blinks at the wrong moment and it's gone before she can make sure. Such observations are made when she loses sight of Sly during their operations. She wonders, but never ponders on it; and within seconds Constable Cooper always reappears by her side. So the events are cast from her mind, if only temporarily.

Later, Carmelita finds herself quiet and contemplative, no matter how much she tries to stem the flow of her thoughts. Deprived of appetite, full of nostalgic longing for the days of playing cops and robbers, as her conscious accuses,  
But you made the choice.  
_You _lied.  
_Made him something that he isn't._

And Carmelita is left wondering, as always, why suddenly her choices don't feel right anymore, or justified, and why her chest sinks guiltily, as if _she_'s the villain, robbing him of his identity.

* * *

Sometimes, Sly notices her dispirited temperaments and places a reassuring hand on hers when they're away from wandering eyes (the job rules discourage workplace romances; Carmelita snorts as she remembers, she's too far gone now to abide by such twaddle).

Asks, "Everything alright, Inspector?" in a calm, nonchalant voice, as if they're discussing today's weather, and he could care less about her response; always playing his part, as if it was mere amicable concern for the condition of a professional partner - as it should be. But she notices his eyes focus themselves onto hers earnestly, as she mumbles a halfhearted 'oh yes, oh yes of course, I'm just not feeling quite well at the moment, no need for concern.' The raccoon understands. Or pretends to, and lets her keep to herself for the rest of the work day. Only later, when they're back safely in her apartment after the end of their shifts, spent separately, he approaches her. To question, to try to coax the truth out of her with soft-spoken words and careful caresses, so that Carmelita eventually forgets what it was that was upsetting her so much in the first place.

She reassures him, it's nothing, I promise; you've no need to worry. Sly abandons the urge to protest; he knows she's lying, but decides not to press on any longer.

Carmelita smiles, allows him to kiss the side of her mouth. They lay down, and a sense of apprehension sweeps over her as she realizes, that this - the prospect of _them - _is something she's taken for granted, and again the feeling of culpability returns; 'if I hadn't lied, he wouldn't be here right now' but Sly buries his face in the crook of her neck, whispers sleepily, "Hey, princess... go to sleep," and she thanks him silently, for being there, realizes how glad she is for that fact.

She decides that, for now, she's going to enjoy his reassuring, strong presence and condemn herself later, 'who knows how long this will last?', and, before drifting off, she hopes, 'a long, long time.'

* * *

**A/N: Hello! Haven't heard from me for a while. I've been toying around with the idea of writing a Sly x Carm fanfic for...quite a while, actually. I whipped this up today in class, this is chapter 1 dealing with Carmelita's mixed feelings about the dishonest life she's leading with Sly. Can she live with the lie? Will she give in to the guilt? Stay tuned...**

**Chapter 2 will be from Sly's POV.  
**


End file.
